


Reverent

by j_louise



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Introspection, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27339052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_louise/pseuds/j_louise
Summary: The Doctor was no stranger to things most people would deem impossible. However, there was one thing he couldn’t quite accept. Rose Tyler’s reciprocation of his feelings towards her.ORRose and The Doctor think the world of each other, but neither of them have the guts to actually say anything.
Relationships: Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Rose Tyler
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	1. Self Preservation

**Author's Note:**

> Looks like I've become a sucker for these two being angsty and madly in love. I felt terrible writing about the Doctor's opinions on his appearance - don't worry Chris, I actually think you're gorgeous! I'm just a sucker for projecting my low self-esteem on my faves. Anyway, enjoy! I'd love to know what you think.

The Doctor was no stranger to things most people would deem impossible. He rarely doubted anything anymore, no matter how unlikely it seemed. He fought off the strangest creatures, discovered a new lifeform, and found out something that rewrote all his preconceptions about the way the universe worked all in a day, and the next day he would wake up and do it all again. He had learned to simply take things as they appeared when it came to this world. However, there was one thing he couldn’t quite accept as possible. 

Rose Tyler’s reciprocation of his feelings towards her. 

At first, he had written the idea off as simply ridiculous, not even a thought he entertained. He barely even acknowledged his own feelings towards her - it was such a hopeless train of thought, he had simply brushed them to the side. He knew from the start that he found her interesting. Impressive. Endearing, even. He hadn’t been around humans for rather a long time before her, so he had thought that perhaps his intrigue was simply caused by her difference from what he was now used to. As he grew closer to her, and spent more time getting used to Earth again, he realised that she was actually pretty special. She was brave, kind, funny, all of those wonderful things that made him want to be around a person. He knew that he liked her. He knew that she made him feel...something. Something more. However, there were things to do and people to save, no time to think about pesky things like feelings. 

But of course, the more time he spent around her the more he lingered on those thoughts. She would smile at him and warmth would grow in his belly. She would grab his hand and he would feel the tension roll out of his shoulders, allowing a proper breath to fill his lungs. Eventually, these feelings became so prevalent that he couldn’t ignore them anymore. He knew he couldn’t control them - not that he particularly wanted to. She made him happy. But he also knew that she could not return his feelings, and this caused them to be tinged slightly with guilt, shame, and slight self-pity. 

He felt silly for feeling this way. He knew she did like him, he could tell her fondness for him was genuine, but beyond that? How could she ever long for him in the way he did for her? By appearance alone, he was 20 years her senior which could hardly be a desirable trait in her eyes. Further to the point, he was literally 880 years older than her. He was pretty sure that when Jackie Tyler had once called him a “creep” she hadn’t known that half of it, and would have used a far stronger word if she had. Or maybe the palm of her hand. He must seem so strange, so ancient, so alien to Rose. Besides, he knew he was hardly attractive by human standards. Big ears. Big nose. Chin that jutted out just slightly too far. Frown lines pressed into his forehead, looking as though they’d formed over the last 20 years rather than coming along as a package deal with his last regeneration. He knew there was nothing physically that could attract her to him. 

More than that though, the worst of it, was that he was damaged. He wasn't being dramatic, like those beautiful heroines in the movies of the late 20th century. No, he knew that he was damaged. He knew that he had trouble connecting with others. He was full of fear at being alone, being left and abandoned. He was afraid of what he was capable of. He put so much energy into doing the right thing because the concept of doing even the slightest thing wrong turned his stomach, made him detach from the present moment. He was struggling to come to terms with what had happened and what he had done. He didn’t necessarily blame himself for that - he knew that anyone would struggle with it. He did feel guilty though. It ate him up. She deserved better than a damaged old alien. She deserved better than him and, while she may run headfirst into danger on a daily basis, he hoped that her self-preservation instincts were strong enough for her to know that. 

He wondered if she could see his pain. If she could really see it. Beneath the sarky comments, the insults, the big cheesy grin. He hoped she couldn’t, and he hoped she could. Probably best that she couldn’t. He thought she might, though. Sometimes, when he’d slung his leather jacket on the seat in the TARDIS control room, and he’d got his jumper sleeves rolled up to the elbows, he felt her eyes on him. Watching. He felt open and exposed. He wanted to hide and he enjoyed it too. He enjoyed it more than not, so he let her look while he distracted himself with trivial TARDIS maintenance. 

He wondered if she saw his love. Because he couldn’t deny that’s what it was. Love. He loved her. He thought she must be able to see it, in moments when his eyes went soft without him noticing. When words like “I’m so glad I met you” slip past his lips, and he knew he sounded reverent. He was. For all his sarcasm, he felt like he was so obvious when it came to her. Underneath all the fight, he was tender. Sometimes, in those moments, when he thought that she saw him, he wondered if she felt it too. Felt the same way. Because she didn’t turn away, clear her throat, dismiss him. She met his eyes, a smile growing on her face, and squeezed his hand. Welcomed him into her embrace. Breathed out slowly, surely, as if she wasn’t terrified. He was. 

Most of the time, he wobbled through it, wondering if she felt the same or not. Sometimes he was sure that she did, he was sure. When she asked him to dance. He almost hated himself for effectively running away from the request but he was scared of what would happen if he allowed himself to entertain the possibility of them, together. There was a moment when he nearly told her. When he had to put her life at risk to try and save the world. The words were on his lips and her eyes pierced into him and he swore she knew what he wanted to say. He decided he didn’t want to provide her with an awkward moment in her potential last minutes on Earth so he didn't say what he wanted to, but he held her gaze. Drank her in for just a moment more. 

No matter how many times he felt in his hearts that she felt the same, he simply couldn't accept it. He simply could not see what she would want with him. For him to want her, that was obvious. It didn’t even need explaining, anyone with half a brain could see why he liked her. But for her to want him? It was almost embarrassing to entertain the thought. And that’s why, even though now and again she looked at him like he’d hung the moon, he never said anything. It was the universe that amazed her, not him. He was simply the designated driver. The one who got them out of tight spots - even though he was usually the one who got them into them. It ached, a hollow cavity in his chest, because he knew that he would never tell her. He would never be able to cross that barrier. He tried to ignore the voices at the back of his mind that told him of his worth, or significant lack of it, but he couldn’t always. Not entirely. That was what did it really. That quiet but doubtless belief that he wasn’t worth her time, really. Not at his core. So he pressed his lips together, didn't say a word, and thanked the stars that at least he got to look upon her.


	2. Silly Little Supernova

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose considers what she loves the most about the Doctor, and can't quite settle on an understanding of it. All she knows is that she will love him, as long as she wants him to.

From the moment Rose met the Doctor she knew that he was the most fascinating person she would ever meet. He seemed to know things that no one else did, dealt with impossible situations in the strangest way, as if he’d seen them a million times before. Then, of course, he told her who he was and she realised that he had. She couldn’t help but be amazed by him from the get-go. She would never forget the sensation she had when he held her hand for the first time. Feeling the turn of the Earth, massive and tiny at the same time. Then, seeing his impossible ship, traveling halfway across London. Who wouldn’t be amazed by a time-traveling alien strolling into their mundane life and shaking up everything they thought they knew about the universe? 

This was a superficial kind of impressed, though. Amazed by what he was rather than who he was. But even that started to change the first day they met, the moment he tried to save the world by being kind. By offering this great big scary monster a second chance. That amazed her more than any spaceship, and she knew she had to get to know this man better. Who he was, why he did the things he did. So she decided to go with him to see the universe. She got to know him. What she realised was that the universe paled in comparison to him. Almost literally sometimes. On occasion, he would be explaining some supernova, or nebula, or some other wonder of the universe, and she would catch herself watching him instead. Watching the way he would light up, the way his lips would form these foreign names, and his shoulders would shrug with happiness as he crossed his arms. Far more interesting than some silly old supernova, she thought. 

She got her first taste of just how wonderful he was after their very first trip together. First of all, he’d almost single-handedly saved a whole ship of people acting as voyeurs to the explosion of her home planet. Then, he’d taken her home and reassured her that it was still there and everything was alright. Then he’d told her that his home planet was gone, that it had burnt. And then it clicked, she understood why he’d taken her to see the end of the Earth. Because he wanted someone to understand. He didn’t want to be alone with his feelings anymore. He wanted her to understand how he felt by just a fraction, and then be able to fix it all by taking her back home. After that, all she wanted was to be able to fix it for him. She knew she couldn’t, but maybe she could keep him company, make him a little less lonely, distract him from the pain that so obviously lived inside him. It was when she started to properly understand him that she realised just how impressive he really was. She almost couldn’t comprehend how someone could be so brave - to go through what he’d been through and not only survive it, but come out the other side so kind. 

So, yes. He was pretty bloody impressive. Not for his gadgets and ship and encyclopedic brain, but for the things he used all that stuff to hide. For his strength, his bravery, his kindness, his vulnerability and for the fact that he really, truly cared. She thought that maybe, if he was human… 

But that was the thing. He wasn’t. He was so much more than that. Sometimes she felt like a speck of dust in comparison to him. Something to pass the time, a temporary bandage to ease the ache a little. She was happy to be that for him, more than happy. Of course, she knew that wasn’t the case. She saw how genuinely he cared about people, how important he thought everyone was, and he never failed to make her feel like she mattered too. She just also couldn’t help feeling like the embodiment of his comments about “stupid apes” when she gazed at him in wonder or adoration. She knew he must get that kind of attention all the time, that he must be sick of it by now, but she couldn’t help it. She did try to hide it at first, how much she adored him, but over time that seemed to become a bit pointless. He must have known the way she felt. She didn’t see how anyone could feel any differently towards him.

Annoyingly, her tiny human mind couldn’t help but want him to feel the same. That was the truly silly part to her. She knew she couldn’t help her feelings - she was human after all and he knew that about her, maybe even liked that about her. But the fact that, while he was concerning himself with saving lives and solving the universe's mysteries, she was wondering whether he felt the same as she did? It was pitiful. As if a 900-year-old time-traveling war veteran could possibly be all that concerned with a 19-year-old shop assistant from Peckham. Well, he was, she supposed. But not in the way she wanted him to be. He was concerned with keeping her safe, but he was like that with everyone. So that was more of a credit to his character than anything else. She supposed that he did actually like her. He was lonely, and she knew how to make him smile, so that counted for something. However, she was certain his heart(s) didn’t ache for her the way that her’s did for him. 

Sometimes she let herself pretend. Sometimes he would grin at her, or tell her how special she was, or hold her hand, and she would pretend that the softness in his eyes was for her. Not just a reflection of his goodness, the softness of his soul, but something that she brought out of him. It was a schoolgirl fantasy, she knew, but it was nice to imagine sometimes. 

Most of all she wanted him to feel the same as he made her feel about herself. Important. Worthy. Of course, she had no idea how to actually achieve that, but she knew that she would stick by him for as long as he needed her or wanted her there. If there was one thing she knew was that love healed. So that’s what she would give him, all she could give him, in return for the thousands of wonderful things he had given her. No matter that it was unreciprocated. She would give him love. Love him and love him and love him until he felt that he could smile a little easier. Breathe a little deeper. It was the least she could do for the kind, brave, wonderful man that had dropped the universe in her lap and told her to enjoy. And with him by her side, she knew that she would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't think I write Rose as well as I do the Doctor. I just can't stop being fascinated by these two and their feelings for one another. I originally planned to just write these two parts, and I might still leave it at that, but I could also carry on if anyone's interested? I'm tempted to do a chapter where these two actually talk to each other. Do please let me know if you would like to read that. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Thank you very much for reading.


	3. The Unkown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose finally plucks up the courage to tell The Doctor about her feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure this is much cop, but I started writing and these two said "Right, we're going this way whether you like it or not!" I hoped this would show an adult conversation with someone who is a little damaged, and two someones who are very hopeful. Not sure whether I achieved that or not but in any case, I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> This chapter is for TheBee, who encouraged me to continue.

Despite Rose’s tendency towards believing her feelings towards the Doctor were completely one-sided, as time went on she became less and less convinced that this was the case. The looks he would send her would fizz deep in her belly, and as he kept his eyes on her she couldn’t help but wonder whether it was chemistry rather than just one-sided attraction. Every time he would endow her with compliments in the way he would with no one else, she would wonder even more if she wasn’t just imagining things, if it wasn’t just wishful thinking. For a time, she over-analysed every moment between them, trying to look for some clue. In the end though, it just kept her in a constant state of anticipation and agonising self-awareness and frankly? She couldn’t be arsed with it. If there was one thing growing up on the estate had taught her, it was to open her mouth. Whether it was to defend someone, confront someone, whatever. You had to stick up for yourself. Her mother had been the same - it was simply something you had to learn to survive. So, she thought, grit your teeth and get on with it. Maybe it would all go horribly wrong and he would think she was stupid and overemotional and drop her home. She hoped not. Either way, she couldn’t go on like this. It was against her nature to just stay quiet, and maybe she was stupid, but in any case, she couldn’t pretend to be something she wasn’t. If she was stupid, she thought, she’d better bloody commit to it! 

It was finding the right moment that was the trouble. They were always on the run from something, or she was exhausted, or he was Very Busy with something Very Clever and would disappear off into the TARDIS for hours at a time. She just wanted to get it over with. Now she’d made up her mind, the waiting was agony. There was nothing in particular that pushed her to do it, no big moment that gave her the courage to open up. They were in the control room and the Doctor was doing some tinkering in the TARDIS, and she realised he would be in there for the foreseeable. The universe had presented her with a moment. She’d better take it. She spent a few very cliche moments running through different ways to begin in her head before she realised that was very much not seizing the moment. 

“Doctor?” she piped up, after many minutes of silence between them. 

“Mmm?” he hummed distractedly, his screwdriver buzzing insistently at a bit of wiring. 

“Could we have a chat?” Rose purposefully avoided the words ‘we need to talk’ and tried to keep her tone casual, recalling an incident with Mickey she’d had a few years ago. She didn’t want to scare him off before she’d even begun.

“I’m all ears.” he breezed, still focused on his wiring. 

Maybe a bit too casual then. 

“No, I mean...a proper one. Like a chat-chat.” Nice. Eloquent. 

“What’s a chat-chat when it’s at home?”

Rose harrumphed in frustration. “Well, one where you’re listening properly, preferably. One where you won’t electrocute yourself on a live wire when you hear what I’ve got to say.” 

“Oh, no, it’s not electric, it’s actually-” the Doctor trailed off, suddenly seeming to realise what she had said. He immediately lifted himself out of the hole in the grating in which he was lying and came to lean against the console, standing in front of where she was sitting on their battered old leather seat. “Is everything ok?” he asked, frowning, now sounding quite serious. 

“Oh, it’s fine. Well, no there is something I wanted to talk to you about but it’s not a big deal. Well, not if we don’t make it one.” Great. Babbling. She knew the Doctor didn’t appreciate babbling, and neither did she, but now she was here she didn’t know what the hell she was supposed to say. 

“Okay.” the Doctor nodded once, a frown on his face, and then waited for her to continue. 

He was taking this so seriously while she was about to make herself look like the biggest fool in the universe. Brilliant. She took a deep breath. 

“I’ve seen you looking at me.” 

Bollocks. 

That was not what she wanted to say. Where the bloody hell did that come from? She wanted to express how she felt and let him respond however he wanted to, not confront him with her suspicions and inadvertently pressure him into making up some excuse to appease her. She spotted the tips of his ears going red - a phenomenon she’d never seen before - and felt awful. Was he angry? Embarrassed? Upset? She hadn’t a clue. The stoic expression remained on his face, his arms crossed over his chest, and she couldn’t gage a single thing from him. 

“No - no! I didn’t mean...hold on.” she steeled herself, and took a deep breath. “We get on right?” 

He gave a single nod in confirmation, now a perplexed look creeping into the serious frown held on his face. 

“Well, I just wondered whether we might get on more than most people get on.” There. She’d pretty much said it now, she may as well explain herself properly. “I mean, I really like you. I like you more than anyone else I’ve ever met. I mean, you’re pretty incredible.” she shot a smile at the ground, feeling embarrassed. 

The Doctor’s face had softened as he listened to her. He cleared his throat. “I know all this can be very impressive. I know it can be overwhelming.” He gestured around the TARDIS. 

God, of course he was getting the wrong end of the stick. “No, I mean you. And not because you’re an alien and you take me to all of these places, or any of that stuff. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s dead cool. But I like you because you’re kind, and you help people, and you’re brave and strong and no matter what the world throws at you, you always end up making the right decision.” She realised she was going on a tirade of flattery instead of saying what she wanted to say. No point in giving him a big head in the process. She took a deep breath. “And you get me. Somehow, even though you’re from, literally, the other side of the universe, you get me. And I think I get you. And you make me feel…better. Like I was always supposed to meet you. And I was just wondering if you felt the same?” she finally met his eyes, and had to look away quickly. His face was softer than she’d ever seen it. 

The Doctor moved from his place at the console and sat down next to her on the console seat, clasping his hands in his lap. “Rose. I think I understand what you’re trying to say.” There was a long pause. “I’m 900 years old.” 

Rose let out a long breath, her eyes started to sting. Of course. She felt like a complete idiot. 

“I’m not sure...I’m not sure it would be right,” he continued, “Or, I’m not sure it would be fair on you. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, you deserve someone you can spend that with properly.” 

They were silent for a few more moments before Rose looked up to stare at him. “You didn’t answer me.” 

“Sorry?” the Doctor’s head turned and he met her eyes. 

“You didn’t answer my question. I asked you if you felt the same. The least I deserve is a proper answer.” 

“Rose, I-” she watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. How could I not?” 

Rose’s eyes widened. “Really?” She felt almost childish in her response but the way he’d just come straight out and said it seemed to knock the common sense out of her. 

A seemingly rueful smile grew on his face. “Yeah. Really.” 

“I thought - I mean, like I said, I’ve seen you looking at me sometimes but I was never really sure. I thought I might be going mad. But - God.” she sat back in her seat, trying to process the information he’d just handed her. “You actually feel the same.” She felt the Doctor’s shoulders move next to her as he let out a small laugh. 

“Yes. I do.” There was another long pause. “But you understand what I was saying, don’t you? About it not being the best idea? 

Rose frowned, turning to face him once more. “No. No, actually I don’t. It sounded like a lot of drivel.” 

“Humans,” the Doctor groaned, staring at the ceiling momentarily. “Always so stubborn. Look, I’m not trying to be funny, but you deserve better than this. You deserve someone who can understand you on the level you need them to. Who can live out their days and grow old with you. Not someone who -” He paused, then started again. “It doesn’t mean I don’t-” He sighed, shoulders dropping. “You deserve more, Rose.” 

She stood up from her seat suddenly, striding out into the TARDIS console room, and turned to face him. “Don’t I get to decide that? Don’t I get to decide who I deserve?” she asked him, feeling the fire inside her grow a little. “Because whether you like it or not, my feelings aren’t going away. I mean, I can’t just click my fingers and make them disappear. They’re going to be here, between us, no matter what we do. And let me tell you, they don’t care whether you bloody age the same way as I do, or how many hearts you’ve got, or whatever the hell it is you think I deserve. However many times you tell me to make them go away, I can’t and they won’t. Do you know what? I wouldn’t even want them to. And maybe that’s me and my human weakness but that’s the way it is. And - and if that’s too much for you then maybe it’s best if I just go home.” 

The emotion that had been growing on the Doctor’s face suddenly fell away and a serious, slightly blank look replaced it. “Is that what you want?” he asked.

“No,” Rose whispered. “But if that’s what you want.” 

The Doctor stood up abruptly and walked over to stand in front of her. Rose’s eyes traveled to stare at the grating on the TARDIS floor, unable to meet his eyes. “Rose,” he said in a quiet voice. His hand found hers in the space between them, and he held her fingers loosely in his grip. “Of course that’s not what I want, but surely you can understand what I’m trying to say?” 

“I understand,” Rose conceded, “but I just don’t agree. 

The Doctor’s thumb stroked over her fingers. “Why am I not surprised?” 

Rose glanced up to see a smile spread over his face, finally breaking into a small laugh. She let herself laugh a little two. Look at the two of them. How ridiculous they both were. Another reason they were meant for each other she thought. “Watch it.” she joked, her tongue poking through her teeth, and she couldn’t help but notice the Doctor’s eyes fall to her lips for a moment as the smile began to fall from his face. She noticed him taking a deep breath through his nose and braced herself.

“Okay. Let's say we allow whatever we feel to take its course and it doesn’t end well, what then?” 

“Well, we can deal with that when we come to it. But, honestly? You can’t avoid people getting hurt sometimes, and you certainly can’t blame yourself for it.” She gave him a significant look. “Life’s like that. And, if there’s one thing you’ve taught me, it’s that life is also about taking risks and hoping for the best sometimes. About taking a step out into the unknown in the hope that there might be something better on the other side.” 

He simply looked at her for a moment, his eyes seeming to twinkle. It was the way she’d seen him look at her a few times before, usually accompanied with an exclamation of ‘Rose Tyler!’ 

She took a deep breath before continuing. Her last bid. “So, let's step into the unknown because I think we’ll be alright. Do you know why? Because it’s us. Just us, together, like always.” 

There was another moment of silence before the Doctor finally spoke, his voice quiet. 

“Alright.” 

“What?” Rose coaxed, a smile growing once more. 

“I said, alright.” the Doctor’s voice was louder this time, his grin accompanied with a good-natured eye roll. “You can be very persuasive, you know?” 

“Well, it’s been said before, but it’s high praise coming from you.” Rose felt like she was on a tightrope, like she didn’t dare be too happy just yet. 

“But listen, if there is the slightest sign of things getting weird, or difficult, or uncomfortable or anything like that we call it a day. We fix it before it goes too far. Promise?” 

“Promise,” she confirmed, her voice breathy. 

“Okay, then.” The Doctor lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles lightly. “Let’s give this a go.” 

Rose’s breath rushed out of her in a woosh. “Do you mean it?” 

“Yeah, I do. I just - I don’t want to rush into things. I want to figure out how we’re going to navigate this, together. Yeah?” 

“‘Course,” Rose reassured him, her smile uncontrollable and she could hear it colouring her words. “Slow as you like.” 

Then, quite as if a bubble had popped, the Doctor pulled her into a close hug, lifting her slightly so she was on her tiptoes. “Rose Tyler!” he exclaimed into her ear. There it was. 

She hid her smile into his shoulder. Before he had a chance to pull away, she couldn’t help but press a kiss onto his cheek. Since that was probably allowed now. What was almost more surprising than anything else was that it felt completely natural. Despite the fact that everything had now changed, it was as if nothing had changed at all. Like she had told him, it was just them. Just the Doctor in the TARDIS with Rose Tyler, just as it should be. And, truthfully, she couldn’t wait to explore what lay ahead.


End file.
